Friday, September 28, 2007

Bizarre Enema Dreams

Can I just say how much I dig the poop shelf in the toilet? I get a kick out of the whole concept. Gerard, on the other hand, finds it quite disturbing (which I find completely entertaining).

I had my second German class this morning. I feel like a complete idiot in class. I know that learning "conversational" language (I see this as Gerrit's language develops, too) is best accessed in short chunks or by learning sentences. However, this is completely counter-intuitive to the way adults learn... or at least the way *I* WANT to learn. I want rules and structure. I want to understand the language structure first or at the same time, which is not the way we're being taught. Yes, I know that getting the syntax and grammatical structure is not the best way to learn immediately, anyway. But I am personally fighting the urge to pull my hair out and stomp my feet because I want to understand it NOW NOW NOW. I definitely think taking this course AND living in Germany for a bit will help me empathize with my second language students in the U.S. It's nothing like taking a foreign language class in high school or college, where you can still speak your native tongue once you leave the class each day. Instead, I am inundated with German (all still jibberish to me now), and I am now the minority. While I feel I do a decent job teaching ELL students, I am definitely able to now empathize and access the kids on an entirely different level. I'm hoping this will prove valuable when I return to teaching in the U.S.

After class I went to a bakery for coffee and attended a monthly meeting of parents from the Bavarian International School. I got to know a few women and spent a good portion of the time listening to them complain about their childrens' teachers. As a teacher, I felt a bit defensive because I know how hard I work, and I know that many parents don't see the effort that goes into real teaching. However, I also found myself wondering how BIS actually manages the different needs of all these international students coming with varying abilities and different curricula. I wonder what type of curriculum BIS actually follows. It must be extremely difficult to teach in an environment like that because not only do you have your highs and lows in each class, but also several non-native speakers coming from completely different education systems. I think I'll tag along next week when one of these gals picks up their kids. That way I can check out the school for myself. Who knows... perhaps after the baby comes I can volunteer a bit of time there, so I can get out of the house now and then and still fulfill my need to "teach" kids.

I had my second meeting with the midwife today. Regina checked the heartbeat and felt the baby's position. She told me that the heart rate is starting to slow down, which is indicative of an imminent arrival. I asked how soon she thought that might be, and she said within one to three weeks. She felt the head position and said that he has already moved fairly low, another indicator of his arrival. It's scary and exciting at the same time. I'm not sure which feeling wins out at this point, though.
Regina feeling the position of the baby.

I can tell I'm getting nervous about the birth, too, because I keep having anxiety dreams. Now let me preface this by saying that I often have vivid bizarre dreams that seem really far fetched. When I awake, I realize how crazy they are. But when I'm dreaming them, they seem completely real to me. For example, before I got married I had recurring dreams of this giant Pterodactyl flying overhead and pooping on me right before walking down the aisle. I can remember being really upset because the bird droppings were bright green and I thought, "If they were white, at least they might not stand out so much." Yeah, yeah, I know... weird. But I am a worrier, and anyone who really knows me, knows that's what I do.

So.... this means I of course had a dream last night about none other than.... an enema. You remember that I told you that the midwife has been encouraging me to have one. I didn't have this done with Gerrit. In fact, I have never had an enema so the idea disturbs me a bit. Now, I realize they probably aren't that bad and in fact, some people may feel they are quite "refreshing." But since it is new to me, well... did I mention I'm a worrier? Anyhow, in my dream the doctor gives me an enema and tells me to hold it in for ten minutes. Of course I'm in agony waiting because well... when something goes up there, it wants to come out, right? So I'm trying to hold it in and the doctor says, "Just to be safe, for good measure let's stitch up your rectum." Now I realize this will never happen, but in my dream it did. So I tell Regina this dream and ask for detailed information about what to expect from an enema here.... explicit details. Gerard is, of course, shaking his head the entire time, but well... again, anyone who knows me knows this is how I operate. Regina drew me a picture of "said" item, which I've included. I was not going to post this picture, but Gerard encouraged me to do so claiming that this is what people have grown to love and expect from me. Well, we shall see.
Regina's "illustration"

Tomorrow we are going to a flea market for some kids' clothes. I've been told they do not have second hand clothing shops here so this is the closest thing I will find. I am hoping to get a snow suit, rain suit, and snow boots for Gerrit.
William (Regina's 3 year old son) & Gerrit


At September 28, 2007 at 11:52 PM , Blogger Cathie Jane said...

I've missed your posts. It is my nightly ritual now. We took Miles to Vegas & had a good time.

At September 29, 2007 at 2:19 AM , Blogger Adrienne said...

It's 3am - hunger, heartburn and nausea woke me up. I caught up on your posts and did you realize that this post starts with poop and basically ends with poop. (I'm not counting the flea market stuff because I think you threw that in there at the last minute just so your post wouldn't technically end with poop. You didn't fool me!)

Nevertheless, I wonder what Freud would say about this?


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